forum Must Be The Season Of The Witch (5/6) (OPEN)

Started June 25, 2022 by @CWPoofToxicRush

tune

Emery walked up some feet away from Circe, a book in one hand, and a thick leather glove on the other. Their eyes were trained on the sky above, watching a falcon circle overhead. Once they got a good sense of where the falcon was, they looked down and saw Circe nearby. Curious, they went closer, and saw the cicada in her hand. Emery silently watched it for a moment, then looked up and saw the ants still swarming on the tree bark. Reaching into their pocket, they pulled out a glass vial and pressed it against the tree, trying to scoop up the ants. Once a good amount of ants were in the vial, Emery put a stopper over it, trapping the ants inside. Making sure the stopper was secure, they put the vial back in their pocket.

Circe doesn't mind Emery behind her for the most part, half pretending she doesn't notice so she didn't have to waste her time talking to someone.
Circe never understood why others made small talk to avoid being supposedly "awkward" when small talk itself is the awkward part.
Circe much preferred being seen as rude to avoid awkwardness. Though she never thought about it farther than "I don't particularly want to talk to you, nor do I need something from you. So why bother speaking with you?"
Instead, if Circe wanted anything to do with someone, she would simply stare. Which probably wasn't the best thing to do, but she wasn't about to change that. Circe preffered watching and studying ones self instead of talking to them. She liked figuring out their favorite color or their favorite spell instead of asking them unnecessary questions that lead to unnecessary relationships.
But then again, Circes few on the world was rather twisted.

Her eyes focus on the cicada in her hand as it crawls out of its shell, careful not to help it along the way in order to give it the most natural molt possible.
To her, she didn't think helping something unless it was life or death was necessary. Because one day you won't have that help. But if you've had that help, you're going to expect it then next time and thus fail. What would be the point in that?
Circe failed to realize that help didn't have to always be a harmful thing and can actual aid in growth and success more than anything.
She didn't want the cicada thinking it could simply stop trying because she helped it. It would die in its own shell of skin if it did that.. So she held her hands still as it finished. She looks around for a place to set it while it did so as she quickly grew impatient. Her eyes catch Emery collecting the ants and her brows furrow "why would you do that?" She asks, her tone a bit frustrated.
"You're trapping them. Why? Did they do something wrong?" she says, not realizing how use she sounds.

Emery focused on Circe when they heard her speak. They shrugged. “What? It’s good spell material. Besides, I didn’t take too many. The colony they belong to will survive without them.” They checked the sky again, then looked back. “Did I offend you somehow by taking these ants? Do they belong to you?” The questions were genuine. Circe fascinated Emery sometimes, and they had noted her apparent fondness for the creepy-crawly things of nature.

Morgana eventually gave up her fruitless attempts to return to her reading, deciding a change in scenery was in order. She hopped down from the window sill, grabbing her messenger bag and sliding her book in, shouldering the bag to go head outside.

Name: Arthur Gardner
Age: 17
Gender/Pronouns: He/Him
Sexuality: Straight
Appearance: Arthur has blond hair, with dark brown eyes. He's 5'10, he usually wares casual clothing, Nothing that would catch anyone's attention.
Personality: Arthur is usually just a type of guy who'd sit in the back, and try not to get into any trouble. If there would be a fight, he'd be the one to try to stop it. He's quiet at first but just like a flower, he'd open up.
Other: (I haven't rp'd in a while so I might be just lil' rusty!)

Arthur had woke to a loud sound in his room. What the… he thought, half asleep. He got up to see, he had knocked over his stuff. Noooo He grumbled. Arthur got to his feat, made his bed, got his clothing on, and then picked up his stuff. I think I'll head out. I over slept Arthur thought, While grabbing his satchel, and went out.

(i like Arthur! :3)
Circe let out a heavy sigh, "they should belong to anybody. Not even you." she says, mumbling the last few words before looking down at the cicada as it continued to crawl out of its shell. "do what you want." she rolls her eyes as she sets the cicada onto a separate tree. When she stands up, bugs fall off of her white dress and brown and green grass stains blotched the fabric. She dusts them off and turns around to them "what're you doing out here anyway?" she looks them in the eyes, glaring in the slightest.

Emery made a little half-hearted shrug and looked away. Already they felt a little guilty, but they had already gotten the ants they wanted anyway. They just looked around awkwardly.
Then raising their gaze to the sky, they replied, “Letting Flint get some exercise. I thought I’d do a little light reading here too.” They looked back to Circe and gestured to the book.

Circe decides to nevermind their words towards the ants being used for their own selfish reasons. Instead looks down to her nails and bites them to scrape the dirt from underneath them, looking back towards Emery. "What is Flint? Or-who…." she asks, not understanding whether or not it was a living thing.
Her red eyes slide down towards the book and she creases her eyebrows. "the…" she tilts her head like a dog "the book is a Flint?" she asks, now even more confused before putting two and two together. "OH!!" she perks up "light reading. the book. The book isn't flint" she says with a small chuckle to herself.
Circe was often seen as dense or stupid. Though she may be both of those things, she never saw it as that. She more saw it as the fact that she was uneducated of ways for the others world around them.

Emery just smiled, waiting patiently for her to finish and get it. Then they nodded. “Flint is my familiar,” they explained, pointing to the sky. “The falcon. You might’ve seen her hovering over the area.”